A Simple Costume
by Kavi Leighanna
Summary: Halloween brought out the weirdness in everyone


_**Technically written for the Smut Challenge over on LJ. Enjoy!**_

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**A Simple Costume**

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Halloween brought out the weird sides of everyone. Aaron Hotchner knew that all too well. But never had he really expected him to bring out something new in him. He was the type of person that stuck to his routines, varying them only slightly out of a habit for safety. He hadn't expected to walk into the bullpen on Halloween and be blindsided by none other than Emily Prentiss.

It wasn't unusual to see agents dressed up on Halloween. Most of them were smart, wore practical costumes and nothing overly complicated. You didn't often find princesses or 18th century women wandering about because the dresses often got in the way. It was the same with men, who rarely dressed up as vampires or anything with a cape to avoid getting tangled in them. Practicality was the name of the game at Halloween and though he didn't dress up, he knew the team often did.

But he most definitely wasn't expecting what he did see. Emily Prentiss was always perfectly put together, much like himself. Unless they were on a particularly busy case, she often wore suits in the office. She most definitely wasn't wearing a suit that day. Instead, she sported jeans and a white tanktop under a woman's fitted plaid shirt. The outfit came complete with a cowboy hat and boots and had him salivating. And he had to work with her. Her desk was right outside his office window. He could see her for the entirety of the day right from that window.

And he had no idea where it had come from. He and Haley had rarely explored in their sex life, even though he knew kinks were normal. He had nothing, no experience to prepare him for his visceral reaction to Emily dressed as a cowgirl. But he knew the signs of his own attraction and he was definitely feeling them now. The hot rush, the tingling aftershocks, and it was from not only a woman he hadn't ever looked at in a sexual manner, but his subordinate and friend.

After the explosion in New York that had severely affected the hearing in his right ear, he'd turned to Emily to help him through it. Emily had been the one to softly repeat things he'd missed and he'd started to decipher her micro-expressions to help himself understand what was going on around him. Eventually, when she'd realized what was going up, she'd started to absently open up that little bit more and he'd done the same. He knew they were, at the very least, friends.

But this sexual attraction to her was something he'd never experienced. Even in that brief glimpse of her as she'd stood, hands on hips, berating Derek for something, was etched on his eyelids. He could see the way her hair cascaded down over her shoulders in soft curls, falling from under the pink cowboy hat. He could picture the way her dark eyes flashed as Derek chuckled from his chair, the way the jeans hugged every curve of her hips and ass...

What the hell was he thinking? Emily wasn't just his subordinate, she was his friend and one of his closest confidantes. The team thought nothing of their growing relationship, probably because it had been surprisingly gradual. They assumed he'd lean on someone after the explosion and though he'd hated that he had to, Emily hadn't judged him for it, had barely said a word about it, just let it go and helped him as much as she could. That was just her way. He couldn't risk losing a friendship like that because he couldn't control his thoughts.

"Nice costume, Hotch."

Damnit, why did she have to come stand in his doorway, just peaking around so he caught a generous view of her cleavage. The tank dipped low and she'd buttoned it to just under her breasts. He wanted nothing more than to rip those buttons apart and...

"Hotch?"

"Sorry."

"Where are you?"

_Buried between your thighs._ "Like Halloween?"

She laughed. "I do," she agreed. "And it's not too revealing, so I get to pass all unwritten Bureau tests."

She was right, it covered almost everything and yet, seemed to leave very little to his imagination. He could see every curve of her body. _Good God, Hotch, pull yourself together!_

"You sure everything's okay?"

"Fine."

She arched an eyebrow, but handed over the folders in her hands before leaving. And that was how they'd spent their day. He watched her though his blinds, getting very little done. Quitting time came around and she kept working away diligently, kept her body arched over her desk. Slowly, the lights around the bullpen turned off until it was just the two of them.

He sighed as he looked at the work in front of him. It was late, no one was here and the temptation had only grown stronger throughout the day. He stood to close his blinds, hoping blocking out the sight of her would allow him the chance to get some work done. Just as he was about to close the blinds, however, she arched her back and pushed her hands as high in the air as she could, stretching out her torso, breasts rising with the action.

He closed the blinds, but went to the door. "Emily."

She looked up at him, hat on the desk beside her because it had irritated her. "Yes?"

He'd seen something flash across her face. He knew it. He could read her expressions, saw the slight touch of triumph in her face and didn't understand. What would she have to be triumphant about? "What are you still doing here?"

"Finishing," she told him. "This way, I can brag to Derek tomorrow."

"You don't have a party or something?" He'd made his way down the stairs by now, eyes fixed on how she was trying to stretch out her neck. It was the perfect excuse and he knew it. Were her pupil dilating as he walked closer?

"No," she replied.

His hands went to her shoulders, thumbs to her neck. It wasn't the first time he'd done this by far. Emily had a terrible habit of arching over her computer screens and desk as she worked. It had stiffened her shoulders terribly. He had to close his eyes when she groaned as he dug into a particularly rough spot. What was going on with him? Was it Emily or the cowgirl outfit? Or Emily in a cowgirl outfit. Whatever it was, it was hitting him fast and hard. Literally. He fought against his body.

Then she spoke. "Jesus, you are so good at that."

He had her whipped around to face him, the sultry moan of her voice destroying the tenuous control he had on his emotions. He pulled her out of the chair and up against him, sealing his mouth to hers quickly. He just couldn't take it anymore. She'd been virtually torturing him for the entire day and he just couldn't take it anymore.

She wasn't as passive a participant in the first few seconds as he expected to be. On the contrary, it took her no more than a split second to catch on and kiss him back. Her lips parted under his tongue as his hands splayed over her back, upper and lower, leaving no space between them. It didn't seem to matter to Emily, who retaliated by sliding her hands around his waist, under his jacket. Eventually, they had to pull away, both breathing heavily.

"We're in the bullpen," she managed to get out, lips swollen.

She was beautiful to his eyes and for the first time in a long time, he let his body guide him. Hotch pulled her along behind him, up the stairs and into his office, closing and locking the door behind him. If he was going to do this, if he was going to break all of his self imposed rules and put his friendship with her on the line, he was going to do it the whole way.

His original thought had been for the couch, but Emily seemed to have other ideas and tugged on his head to his desk. It briefly flitted through his head that she should have better than his desk, if that was what she was aiming for, for their first time doing this, but his body had been craving her all day. He wasn't about to argue on a decision as small as where.

And he had to admit, she looked delectable sitting on his desk, fully decked out like a cowgirl, hair mussed, mouth swollen. He pressed himself right up against her, pulling her ass until she was nestled right against his body, evidence of how attracted he was to her pressed against her. He leaned over to kiss her again, surprised and happy to find that that plaid shirt was kept together by snaps instead of buttons. He wasn't sure his fingers would have been steady enough to deal with buttons instead.

His jacket fell to the floor with her shirt, and she apparently had steadier hands as she made quick work of his tie, and dress shirt. Her tank came quickly over her head before he leaned down and attacked her collarbone and the tops of her breasts that spilled out over her bra.

"Hotch..."

"You looked fantastic, edible..."

Emily let out a groan. "Cowgirl? I'd never-oh!"

He'd clamped down on a nipple through her bra and most certainly distracted her. Her body arched into his mouth and her hands clutched at his head, short nails scratching through his hair as he mouthed and licked her breasts. She felt glorious. His hands moved from where they were supporting his body, scooting up her back to flick open the clasp of her bra. The straps fell down her shoulders and he quickly added it to their slowly growing pile of clothes.

Emily moaned when his mouth made contact with a bare nipple. He lifted his head then, to kiss her again, to deal with the button fly of her jeans. His hands dealt with her boots surprisingly fast and her jeans and panties were around her ankles quickly. He certainly didn't waste time. He didn't have time to waste, not when she'd been tempting him all day.

"You are so overdressed," she breathed, kissing him briefly. "And that is so cliché."

He chuckled but didn't give her time to get to her pants. Instead, he kissed down her body until he was kneeling in front of her. He knew his feelings showed on his face, knew he was looking up at her with pure heat in his gaze. She moaned against him, but he took his time, kissing up her inner thighs, fingers trailing up the other one. He glanced up, allowing his fingers to brush gently up her soft skin. Her hands supported her, elbows bent as she leaned backwards.

Eventually, finally, he took pity on her, brushing his tongue against her, laving, stroking, bringing her higher and higher. Eventually, his hand replaced his mouth. He wanted to watch her, wanted to see her falling over the edge. And she did, beautifully, with her head arched backward, mouth opened just slightly. Her nails dug into his blotter and her thighs clenched around his hand.

He kissed her thoroughly as she came down, patiently continuing until she was grasping at him again. Then she surprised him, shoving him into his chair, eyes dark and intense. "Emily..."

She put a finger to his lips, trailing down the side of his neck, the middle of his chest until she reached the waist of his pants. She let her fingers play there for a bit, allowed them the chance to dip just under the fabric, scratching his skin. His head tilted back at her hands and he moaned when he heard and felt her release his belt. His fly and zipper went next and then she had him in her hand.

It was a glorious feeling, a feeling that surprised the hell out of him. And turned him on. Even though she was naked – and what a glorious sight it was to have her leaning over him, completely unclothed – he could picture the cowgirl outfit, could still see the cowboy hat on her head. "Jesus."

"Not even close," she purred and descended on him. He was moaning and groaning within minutes, urging her on, threading his fingers through her long hair, trying desperately not to push upwards into her hot mouth. Eventually, she let him go with a satisfied 'pop' and raised herself until she was carefully straddling his waist.

Somewhere along the way he'd lost his pants, and it had been a long time ago since he'd lost his mind. He gave no thought to anything but her warm wet depths and drove himself home. It tore a groan from both of them and Emily all but collapsed onto his chest. Slowly, Hotch began to thrust up into her. She began to meet him, lifting herself off of him at the same time he pulled backwards. It didn't take long for their rhythm to heat up. His hand snaked down her body, turning to rub a gun-calloused finger against her. She mewled and arched and he could feel the beginnings of her climax as her muscles fluttered around him.

There was nothing gentle about this, no simple tip over the crest. On the contrary, they flew over, plunging into the depths of pleasure as he let out a long low groan and she bit his shoulder to keep from crying out. He stayed inside of her as they calmed down. Eventually she lifted her head.

"It took a cowgirl to get you to do that? If I'd have known I'd have done it earlier."

That, to Hotch, felt a little out of left field. "What?"

"C'mon, Hotch," she said softly, almost vulnerably. "You haven't noticed?"

His hand stroked down her back. "Noticed what?"

Emily smiled, a note of tenderness and affection in the way she brushed her hand through his hair. "I've wanted you for a while."

"You have?" He'd thought he was virtually going to hell for what they'd just done and here she was saying she wanted him?

"Mmhmm," she murmured, leaning forward to kiss him thoroughly.

He responded enthusiastically. "I didn't know."

"Now you do."

Maybe Halloween didn't bring out the weirdness in everyone at all.


End file.
